BURNT BUSH
Suddenly, silently,
Startling my spirit,
Peopled the air was!
Pulsing the gloom!
Presences alien, undescried, flitting,
Fann’d me with hosts of impalpable pinions,
Knock’d at the gates of my sense, but not enter’d,
Throng’d thick around!
And, Hark! as I listen’d,
Hark! where the River, the old River, [1]Mangi,
Came white through the gloaming,
Utterance met me, meaning his voice had,
Up from the darkness, clear came his meaning;
And, listening, the heart of me heard:
“Sorrow, ah, Sorrow!
Wailing, ah, wailing!
Wail, for They hearken!
Wail—They are dumb!
O Brethren departed, O Beings lamented!
Granted return in the moment of twilight—
I, the forsaken, I, the remainder,
Greet you, salute you! In this, your returning,
I, too, return....O Beloved, lament with me!
That which was pleasant is pleasant no longer,
That which was goodly is gone!
“Soft Arms of the Coolness,
Deep Breast of the Beauty
Of old, that embraced me:
Now—no way otherwise—
Ghostly I greet you!
O welcome and wayward
- ↑ Mangi: Approximate pronunciation, Máh-ngi.
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